


Power Play

by tuesdaycoming



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bite Marks Special (Rusty Quill Gaming), Humiliation, M/M, Mental Coercion, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Pack Dynamics, Pet Names, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Semi-Public Sex, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28265916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaycoming/pseuds/tuesdaycoming
Summary: Winter decided, many years ago, to be a strong wolf. In the time since, he has, occasionally, been a weak man.An extension of a scene from the Bite Marks RQG special
Relationships: Michael (Bite Marks RQG)/Winter (Bite Marks RQG)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21





	Power Play

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the dialogue from the first few paragraphs is taken or modernly adjusted from canon. 
> 
> "Mildly Dubious Consent" tag refers to domination mechanics used toward the end, and to general werewolf/pack implications.

Winter decided, many years ago, to be a strong wolf. In the time since, he has, occasionally, been a weak man. When Michael, all soft curls and skittering glances, comes to Winter on the eve of his victory in finally taking his proper place as Alpha, Winter offers him a comforting, human shoulder to lean on. 

“Oh, Michael,” Winter smiles at him, teeth glinting. Michael can’t quite look at him, but that’s hardly unusual. “Tell me, what wrong?” Winter puts one hand on Michael’s shoulder, and Michael immediately presses forward into it. 

He sighs, head ticking to the side like he’s still a pup. “It’s Ursula.” Michael chews the inside of his lip. “I just—” Winter squeezes his shoulder. It isn’t false comfort. He does feel for Michael, to have his Alpha, the woman who turned him not five years ago when he’d been barely finding his human legs, so utterly lost in herself. It is so good of him to come to Winter in his grief. “You know me. I need leadership. I need guidance.” Michael swallows hard, remembering, “My control of the wolf, it isn’t as complete as the rest of you, you know? My control— it depends on strong leadership I can look to, to know I’m not in this on my own.” 

Michael must know it was Mr. Smith who took care of pushing his little indiscretion away from prying eyes two summer ago. That is was Jan who hunted down the feral beast who’d bitten Michael in their territory without staying to give him the Change that Ursula had to bestow when they found him, bleeding and delirious in the woods. But it is Winter who Michael comes to now, when he’s scared. It’s Winter who hears him pleading. “I— I need you. I need you to take— to give me that guidance.” 

Winter brings his other hand up so he has Michael by his shoulders. “Oh, don’t worry, my boy.” It isn’t a hug so much as a tightening of his hold. “I will.” Regardless, Michael’s entire being relaxes. Winter sees the moment it happens, when the seed of loyalty, of pack, linking Michael to his Alpha and pulling his attention towards that distress, shifts focus. The minds of the pack have been present in Winter’s head since he became the Howl, but he feels the tether of one of them grow thick and golden. It is a taste of Alpha power gifted by Michael’s vulnerability. Winter smiles at him, all teeth. 

Michael's eyes flash yellow, and he falls to his knees on the hard wooden floor. Winter tuts, sympathetic for the bruise no matter how quickly it will heal. How kind of Michael, though, to demonstrate how willing he is to hurt a little to make Winter happy with him. Poor thing had spent days on his knees for Ursula in the beginning. Strengthening their bond. She had always been so prim about it, so demuring when she pet his hair and held entire conversations with those curls between her legs. Michael had been so quick to her side when Jupiter fell. It's right, Winter thinks, for him to flee from her now. 

"I'm so pleased you understand the nature of things, Michael." Winter moves his palms up to cup the sides of Michael's head. He moves easily under his hands. "It speaks to a wolf's strength to know his own weaknesses." Michael leans forward to nuzzle against Winter's still clothed cock. "And I--" Winter sucks in a breath through his teeth and holds Michael against him, "am honored to help you overcome your weaknesses, dear boy." 

Michael keeps his hands at his side, balled into fists. He mouths at the zip of Winter's jeans. "Thank you," he says, "for helping me. Let me--" Michael whines, wolfish and high, and Winter understands that he isn't using his hands for fear of revealing the claws extended from his fingertips. Poor thing. "Thank you. Let me thank you" 

"Of course, pup." When Winter lets go of him so he can open his jeans and tug them down, Michael rests his cheek against Winter's thigh. The tether in Winter's mind glows bright. "I'll give you what you need." 

Michael is talented. Winter sees no harm in telling him so when he is swallowed down, eager, _grateful_. "Good boy. That's it. You'll take what I give you, won't you?" Winter stills Michael's head and wipes smeared spit and precum from the corner of his lip before he pulls him back into his cock, controlling the pace. "Of course you will." Michael goes boneless and open as Winter uses him like a fleshlight. The yellow drains from his eyes and Winter coos. "Let the wolf go, pup. I've got you." 

When Michael's hands fly up to grasp Winter's thighs, desperate to find some point of connection to his Alpha, his nails are blunted. His curls fall damp over his eyes so he cannot see the hair on Winter's cheeks grow rough and his eyes go dark and amber. "You look good like this, Michael." Winter's voice is near a growl. "No wonder she wanted you." 

The door opens, but Michael doesn't hear it, or doesn't care. Winter tugs him off his cock, almost laughs when Michael presses back against his hands to try and get it back in his mouth. "Please," Michael tips his cheek into Winter's palm, "let me. Alpha--" 

Winter's eyes flick to the figure half shadowed in the doorway, Mr. Smith, who hasn't spoken or fled. There's risk here, in tipping his hand too soon, but Winter isn't hiding the sex. Even if Mr. Smith cries foul, there are so few members of the pack who would believe him. "I've got you." Winter meets Mr. Smith's eyes across the room and takes his cock in hand. He strokes himself, one hand fisted in Michael's curls to hold him still. "Tongue out, there's a good boy." Winter presses the order into his voice, Domination he knows he doesn't need with Michael, but he cannot keep from grinning when he sees Mr. Smith's lips part. 

Michael comes a moment after Winter does, pulled along by the bond and the relief of being taken care of and marked by the come spattered across his face. Winter wipes the head of his cock across Michael's tongue, cleaning it before he tucks himself away. "I'll help you, Michael." Winter's features draw back, grow human again as he pushes Michael's curls out of the way. "Whenever you need me."

"Thank you." Michael doesn't try to get up just yet. 

"Mr. Smith," Winter glances toward him, as if just now noticing he's here, "is something wrong?" Michael's cheeks grow red and lovely, but, at this Winter swells with a fierce sort of affection, he does not wipe Winter's come off before looking toward their Fixer. 

It's a moment before Mr. Smith speaks, but his voice is steady when he does. "I've just spoken to Cassidy, the Mercier's Fixer. I'm fairly certain she killed the Wessex wolves." 

"Oh goodness," Winter's raises an eyebrow. "Thank you for telling me so quickly, Mr. Smith. We really should do something about that."


End file.
